


The Battle of the Bands

by Ch4rms



Category: The Sims (Video Games)
Genre: Broken Friendships, Brooding, Comes with images, Custom Neighborhood, F/M, Interwoven Plots, M/M, Original Character(s), Other, POV Multiple, Questioning Sexuality, Teens, The Sims 2, illustrated story, meta references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27287008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ch4rms/pseuds/Ch4rms
Summary: A slice of life romantic dramedy that focuses on a handful of teens involved in the end of summer ‘Battle of the Bands’ competition in the fictional neighborhood region of ‘Kashmire’. The band that wins will get money, notoriety, and the chance to open a real concert and break into the industry. As the summer wears on, the teens are put through trials of friendship, love, and betrayal that could tip their fortunes toward winning or losing the competition.





	1. Musical Rivals

Nicholas Hart, all swagger and no substance, had come marching into the Laundromat after spying Illyana perched on the row of dryers as she idly waited for a load of laundry to get done. She gave him a curious frown as he entered. She knew he didn't need to leave home to do his laundry.   
  
“So, you signed up for the Battle of the Bands then?” he casually leaned on the wall and asked, revealing his reason for interrupting her quiet evening.  
  
“Yeah, I did. What’s it to you?” she grinned, anticipating his annoyance.  
  
  


He let out a scoff, “You know my band is playing in that gig!”  
  
How could she not? On the last day of school the idiot had been blathering on and on about how all the teenage girls in Kashmire would fall in love with him once his band won the competition. He played guitar and Illyana had to admit he was good at it, but Nick's ego needed to be taken down a notch.  
  
“So?” She didn’t see his problem with a little healthy competition.  
  
“So, I thought we were friends. Why even bother trying to play in the competition?”  
  
The dryer buzzed and she slid off the top of the dryer to retrieve her clothes, shaking her head at his ridiculousness. He was such a big baby sometimes. She knew just what to say to push his buttons.  
  
“Are you _afraid_ my band will beat yours?” She raised a brow and looked over her shoulder while pulling fresh, warm clothes from the dryer into her basket.  
  
He gave a loud, derisive laugh, “Please, I just don’t want you to embarrass yourself. Have you ever heard _your_ guitar playing? It sounds like tortured cats!”

  
  


  
Illyana’s expression turned cold and stony. She remembered now why she held little respect for him anymore. She shoved the last of her clothes into the basket and made her way to get out of the Laundromat as fast as she could. His words stung her more than she cared to admit, “Maybe, we aren’t friends after all.”  
  



	2. The Nefarious Evelyn Jane

“They won’t have a _full grand piano_ at the Battle of the Bands, Reggie. So, you’ll have to get used to playing one of these,” Evelyn Jane sniffed, looking down her nose at the small electronic keyboard.  
  
Her younger brother gave a look of apprehension, it wasn't what he was accustomed to. They keys were plastic. He doubted it would sound as smooth.

It was a nice summer day and the two Orbinson siblings had driven down the coast in Evelyn Jane's convertible to Kashmire Point, a small seaside tourist spot of the region. The boardwalk shops housed the Sand's Music Emporium, which is why Evelyn Jane wanted to come down in the first place. She wanted Reggie to be as prepared as he could be come time to play in the competition. He'd been spoiled with the baby grand piano in their parlor since he was a young boy, it was time to get serious.  
  
She meandered back to the front of the store and shifted through some vinyl records, casually looking for anything new for her collection as Reggie groaned and contemplated if he should buy an electronic keyboard to take home and practice on. Eventually Reggie joined her, seeming to have not yet made up his mind and did the same idle browsing through the CD stacks. She made an annoyed sound in the back of her throat, displeased at his indecision.  
  
A familiar girl walked into the Sand’s Music Emporium then. The reason for recognition was a distant memory until Evelyn Jane realized who the girl was, and remembered her name on the competition list as a singer for one of the other bands. Evelyn Jane knew this girl sang really well, even enough to be a threat to victory. The girl asked the cashier something about microphone batteries.

  
  


“Reggie!” Evelyn Jane whispered and he stopped looking at CDs to lean in and hear, “I have an idea that might give us an edge in the competition.”  
  
“Go for it,” he advised. He couldn’t stop her anyway if her mind was set on winning. She flashed a conniving smile and turned to greet the singer.

  
  


“Leona Hillenburg?” Evelyn Jane gushed in artificial admiration and the girl turned around quite startled, trying to identify who was calling her name.  
  
“Yeah? Oh plumbobs, you’re the Mayor’s daughter!” Leona recognized the girl about her age. They didn’t go to the same school but she’d seen Evelyn Jane on Television during Mayor Orbinson’s re-election campaign.  
  
“Yes, and I remember seeing you sing at the Scandalica City Music Festival last summer. What a voice! I was wondering, the Mayor’s Ball is still looking for singers—would you be interested in singing for the event?”  
  
Leona's smile dropped, suddenly conflicted, “That’s the same evening as the Battle of the Bands, and I’m already singing in that. Besides, I thought auditions were closed for the Mayor’s Ball?”  
  
Evelyn waved her hands, unconcerned, “I could set you up with a guaranteed spot. Besides, many more prominent people will be attending the Mayor’s Ball. This is a once in a lifetime chance! Battle of the Bands happens every year.”

Leona’s expression shifted to excitement, “Really? You’d do this for me?"  
  
Evelyn Jane maintained her counterfeit smile of admiration, "Of course!"  
  
"Well thank you!" Leona clasped her hands together in genuine gratitude, "You’re the absolute best!”

The Mayor's daughter refrained from saying something along the lines of ' _I know_ ' and held out her hand in a diplomatic manner. Leona gave her an enthusiastic handshake and a farewell before running out of the store, presumably to go tell her family and friends of her good fortune. She didn’t even bother to finish checking on spare microphone batteries from the clerk.  
  
Evelyn Jane heard piano music from the back showroom of the Emporium and followed it to find Reggie trying out the keyboard.

“So did your plan work? Is she going to sing at Dad’s Event?” he asked, not bothering to halt his playing and look at her for confirmation. Of _course_ her plan had worked.  
  
Her lips quirked into a shrewd smile and she crossed her arms with confidence, “One thing is for sure, she’s _not_ singing at Battle of the Bands.”

  
  



	3. Breaking of a Band

“ _Tortured cats_!” Illyana Sanchez exclaimed to her bandmates as they sat down for lunch at the Scandalica Delicatessen, “I can’t believe his nerve.”  
  
Alarie Thackery, their drummer, just shook her head with amusement and Leona grimaced at the insult.  
  
“Nick just needs a good kick in the shins,” Alarie chuckled. Illyana nodded in absolute agreement.  
  
Leona hid her face behind her menu, pretending the listed foods were much more interesting than the conversation at hand. She had planned to tell Illyana that she was dropping out of the competition, but knew that news on top of Nicholas Hart’s summation of their group’s sound, wouldn’t help Illyana’s mood one iota. Nick had a point though—between Alarie’s haphazard beating on the drums and Illyana’s sub-par attempts at electric guitar—Leona thought their group’s sound wasn’t as top-notch as other bands. Practices hadn't been much in helping progressing the quality either.

“So what are you ordering?” Illyana asked, turning toward Leona and changed the subject.  
  
“Fried Chicken,” Leona mumbled.  
  
Illyana arched a brow, knowing immediately something was off with her friend. Usually, Leona would be just as up in arms about this slight on their band. Thankfully, the waitress came to take their orders and Leona was saved from explaining herself.  
  
The conversation wandered to music and boys—mostly between Illyana and Alarie—with Leona throwing in absent-minded nods of agreement as they waited for food. Halfway through eating, Illyana was reminded of Leona’s change in disposition.  
  
“Why are you so quiet today, is something wrong?”

Leona took a deep breath, _it's now or never._  
  
“You guys, I have to drop out of Battle of the Bands. I’m singing at the Mayor’s Ball that night.”  
  
“You got a spot to sing the _Mayor’s Ball_?” Alarie smiled broadly with surprise but a hint of doubt. Leona felt a tiny inkling of relief that she wasn't being yelled at immediately but knew better than to hope Illyana's temper wouldn't boil over.

Illyana, after a brief moment of seeming dumbstruck, jumped up from her seat and asked, “Why didn’t you tell us this _before_ you agreed to sing in the competition?”  
  
Leona bit her lip, “It just came up yesterday. I thought auditions had closed but I was just offered the gig last minute. Please don’t be mad!”  
  
Alarie was taking the news delightfully well, but Illyana was clearly fuming—fists balled, and standing rigid.

  
“You’re giving us the shaft to sing at some dance for boring, snobby, adults?” she scowled, her voice was rising and causing other patrons of the deli to take notice.

Leona stood up in defense, hand on her hip, “You _know_ it’s my dream to be a professional singer. There will be influential people at the Mayor’s Ball, how can I pass this opportunity up?”  
  
Illyana’s scowl only deepened, “You’re being selfish. You made a commitment to sing for _**our**_ band.”  
  
“It’s always been **_your_** band, Illyana. You only started it to stick it to Nick anyway and he’s right—we do sound like tortured cats! We won’t win anything!”  
  
A chilly silence covered the room and Illyana and Leona could only glare at each other in contempt.


	4. Practice

Nick was late for band practice. _Again._  
  
Cypress and Orion waited for him in the extra upstairs room at Cypress's home that they used for jamming in. Orion had wanted to go ahead and get started without Nick, but Cypress was firm that they would start when his tardy cousin finally showed his face. He wondered what excuse Nick would use this time.  
  
Cypress hoped that Nick didn't randomly get grounded. It wasn't unheard of.   
  
“You know,” Orion said thoughtfully and leaned in a little closer than Cypress was accustomed to, breaking his thoughts, “You play the drums really good, man. Better than _me_ even.”

The guys looked at the drum set in front of them and Cypress gave a small, doubtful, laugh—wiping away some the jet black hair that always obscured his face, “Nah man, you’re the best musician in the whole region.”  
  
Orion had been the one to teach Cypress in the first place, after noticing how much natural rhythm Cypress had, tapping his feet, tapping pencils, fingers, anything really. He appreciated Orion's help but couldn't take the compliment, not when Orion was a musical savant of sorts.

“Here, try playing this set I wrote, it has a killer drum solo,” Orion slid to the floor and ruffled through his sheet music, handing Cypress a page to look at. Knowing Orion, he'd probably stayed up all night coming up with another new song. He was a bit anxious about playing, and wanted the _perfect_ song.  
  
After a moment of reviewing the paper, Cypress nodded and took a seat at his drums, picked up the drumsticks and seemed to start playing from memory even though the view he had of Orion’s composition was so brief.  
  
He slammed the bass drum steadily with his foot on the pedal, crashed the cymbals and then went into a back and forth, doing a quick succession on the snare and toms. Orion’s smile widened, not only because Cypress was doing the solo the way he had imagined when he wrote it, but because he also had tricked them into practicing before Nick arrived.

Speaking of Nick, they heard someone's quick steps trampling up the stairs.

“Sorry I’m late, Mom made me take out the garbage before—” Nick started to breathlessly make an excuse for being late but stopped and gaped at his cousin’s playing.  
  
The execution of it was...enthralling.  
  
When Cypress had finished the solo, Orion stood and cheered enthusiastically. There was no way they _couldn’t_ win the Battle of the Bands with playing like _that_. Nick put his hand over his heart and said “Bro, that was completely awesome! Are you playing that in the battle?”

“I could,” Cypress murmured, transferring his drumsticks into one hand and standing up before throwing them to the sofa. He looked to Orion for guidance. Orion had the final say since he was the one writing the music.  
  
"You _should,_ " Nick shot back.  
  
Orion held up his hand, Cypress mirrored it, and Orion gave him a high-five, “Absolutely!”  
  
Nick stood beside them and pouted, “Where’s _my_ high-five?”

  
"You were late to practice. No high fives for you," Orion stated but then chuckled at how pathetic Nick looked.

Cypress also laughed but obliged Nick. Orion had it easy—his parents were not strict, his talents came naturally. Nick tried so hard.  
  
Orion took his position at the electric double bass and chided, “Okay, come on, now we can start practicing for _real_.”


	5. The Replacement

“So what’s the plan now that, you know, Leona bailed?” Alarie asked Illyana. Illyana had stayed over for dinner and the two girls were hanging around in Alarie’s bedroom before Illyana had to leave.  
  
Illyana’s spirit for competition had waned, and she looked blankly back at her friend. She couldn’t help but to feel a bubble of rage boil in her throat at the thought of Leona’s betrayal.

Finally, she blurted, “Well, it looks like we need a new singer. You know anyone we can get last minute?”  
  
Alarie shook her head, at a loss for an answer. Alarie didn't seem as stressed out about it but Illyana didn't see how they could continue to be in the competition without a singer. Neither she nor Alarie were very good at it.

Then, the door opened and Alarie's younger sister, Alanna, peeked her head in. Alanna was often mistaken for the older of the two. She was just so responsible, smart, got all the good grades and never, _ever_ got into trouble. Unlike Alarie.  
  
Alarie stood up immediately, “Hey, we were in the middle of an important discussion. You can’t just barge in here!”  
  
Alanna looked mildly affronted and put her hands on her hips, “This is _my_ room too!”

Before the sisters could start an argument, Illyana was struck with an idea. She jumped up and asked, “Alanna, you don’t happen to sing, do you?”

The question caused Alarie to fall back into the sofa with a ridiculing snort of laughter. _Alanna_? Sing for _their_ band? She wouldn’t even show her stomach at the swimming pool much less a rock concert. Alarie couldn't believe Illyana was that desperate.

“Actually, I do. I sang a few solos for the school choir,” Alanna admitted with a proud smile, but Alarie could tell there was a hint of a bragging in her sister’s tone. Typical. Alanna couldn't go a day without listing one of her accomplishments.  
  
Illyana’s rapt expression of glee turned into a pleading pout toward the elder Thackery sister.

  
Alarie really couldn’t believe Illyana would be this desperate to accept Alanna’s help. Alanna was more of a choir girl than a rocker, she didn’t have the range Leona had. Most of all, she wouldn’t fit in with the sound, look, or vibe Illyana was always pushing for in the band. Alarie knew a lot about sticks—she was a drummer after all—she could beat out rhythms with them, throw them, and she knew there was one so far up her sister’s ass that it couldn’t be removed.

Alarie stood and paced, her face now contemplative and serious. Illyana’s dramatic, quivering, lower lip of plea was becoming even more ridiculous by the second. Not to mention how wide and round her eyes became to complete the look equivalent of a begging puppy. Alarie sighed and said curtly, “Fine. Alanna can sing for us.”  
  
But as Illyana smiled with a new and inspired competitive spirit, her drummer turned around and made a face that told that complications were still sure yet to come with this choice.


End file.
